Her Him & Them
by i used to be golden
Summary: They're both dying and dead at the same time. Maybe they can just fall apart together. (rated t for angst! the rating is t but may possibly be bumped up. this is for y'all cho x harry shippers out there!)


_**him**_

Harry feels dead inside. Nothing makes sense to him anymore. Dumbledore is dead. Snape is dead. Fred is dead. Tonks and Lupin are dead. Really, the Chosen One is beyond caring now. Why continue to care? Everything comes to an end. Everyone gets hurt.

He wonders why he still wanders the Earth. Harry doesn't really want to live right now. Everyone surrounding him is over the pain of death and sacrifice. They are slowly healing. Everyone but him. But how can he heal when the threat of death still lingers upon his close mates?

Yes, Voldemort is gone. He's dead. Kaput. Harry knows this, but he can't let it go. He doesn't mean to be down on the victory; he just knows nothing will ever be the same again.

Even Ginny's touch doesn't cause butterflies. She flits around him, unsure and frightened of this new change in Harry. Eventually she gets over her first love. Ginny gets over her childish crush. She dates more boys and she falls in love easily.

Ron's wise comments don't make Harry laugh or smile. He listens to Ron talk about Quidditch, about Hermione, but he really starts to not care. No one really gets him, might as well let them forget about him.

It's cruel, how someone can fade so far into themselves and not a damn person can help.

_**her**_

At just 17 she's a ball of depression and sadness. Cho wears a mask of 'I'm okay', and 'no really, I'll be fine' around her peers. Then she goes home, to a place her parents no longer live, and she cries. Because she's not okay.

Her parents died in the war. Now she's on her lonesome. Everything she ever had was taken away from her. Was she supposed to be _happy_?

Whatever.

Cho kind of really likes alcohol. She likes the way it stings her throat going down. She likes the way it makes her feel fuzzy and emotionless. She likes the way it helps her to forget Cedric. Sometimes, on nights like tonight, she took the bottle to bed and drank away the dark.

No one really knows. No one really cares. It's all about fixing the statues, the towns, the school up. The others don't have time for a sulking girl who cries over everything. Stolen! All the things she owned…taken by one man.

She doesn't even have a heart anymore.

It's more like a solid chunk of ice, sitting in a freezer. It never melts, it never warms. Numb is what she'd call it. And she likes it. Cho likes being numb, she likes not feeling anything, she likes forgetting the past.

Cho wants to die. But she can't do it herself. Sometimes, Cho wonders why she didn't die in the war like her parents. Why did whatever higher being let her stay? All she did was waste away, day by day.

Cho wonders if she'll ever feel better. Maybe not jubilant and happy, but…maybe _better_.

It's weird, how feelings can change and sadness can spread.

_**him**_

Harry moves out. He moves out of Mrs. Weasley's house, discouraging her objections with a hearty 'I'll visit, I promise!' (Harry never does visit in the end.) But the Chosen One moves into his Godfather's place. He lives with the old Black mistress and ignores her screams when she awakens.

Truth be told, they don't bother him. He couldn't care less about being called a filthy son of a bitch. He's past caring, right?

Harry likes living alone. It's dark and quiet and most of the time it's raining. He likes the rain. The thing about the rain is its calmness. It soothes his nervous jitters when he thinks about the dead ones.

He thinks about Dumbledore a lot. Harry knows what Dumbledore would say if he could say anything to Harry in the state he was in. He would tell him to get over himself, learn to accept and to stop. Fucking. Everything. Up.

Well not in those words.

Harry knows Mrs. Weasley and Mr. Weasley worry sick about him all the time. He doesn't have the heart to call or owl. Well. They'll learn to stop caring, too.

His friendships die. When Ron and Hermione end up visiting him he doesn't let them stay long. It goes like this for a couple of weeks until Ron doesn't bother talking to him. Hermione attempts, but all she gets is a dark look and muttering from Ron about 'don't bother! He's just a git.' He knows Ron only goes because Hermione wants to.

Harry does wish Hermione didn't bother. It'd make things a lot easier if she'd let go. They couldn't be friends forever.

At first, Ginny is hurt by Harry's distance. But she's not the twelve year old girl she was then. Now she keeps a stiff upper lip. She doesn't exchange a word to Harry when he finally leaves.

Darkness, loneliness, the stale scent of a once thriving friendship. Harry welcomes this all.

It's intriguing, what the thoughts in one's head can lead up to.

_**her**_

Cho doesn't eat. Not for weeks at a time. She sips tea and eats the tiniest amount of vegetables. She watches herself waste away.

It's fascinating, really, what this isolation can do to a person.

She doesn't go out anymore. Cho claims she's busy, but really she's sitting at home watching a blaring television set. Her friends shrug it off, Cho can do whatever she wants, plus…she's fine, right?

Of course.

One day it's raining outside. No one is around to stare at her. No one is around to ask her that stupid fucking question: are you okay? What else is Cho supposed to say except for 'yeah, I'm fine'? That she's not? They'd never know what to say to that.

Cho leaves her apartment. She's not sober tonight, and she'll have a hell of a hangover the next day. That is, if she lets herself because sober. But Cho's really liking the buzz she's got from the liquor and she doesn't intend to stop.

She's wearing a hoodie, jeans and some tattered shoes. Her feet are soaked easily in the pouring rain. It's kind of a horrible day, but Cho really likes it. Sometimes even the sunny blue skies can turn as miserable as she.

Cho walks faster. In the hint of darkness she can almost feel a gentle tug on her mouth.

She smiles because she feels better.

It's strange, what a person can become in the darkness.

_**him**_

Harry's on the night bus, wandering the streets. The bus driver shrugs when the boy doesn't seem to want to get off at any stop. But the man understands, there are some nights like these for everyone.

The boy with the lightning scar taps aimlessly on the glass, feeling the stares upon his forehead. He doesn't bother to cover up the scar anymore. He shows it off to the world to say, 'Hey, even the highest can fall so low.'

A hooded figure catches his eye. A long strand of hair escapes from its mask. It's raining and grey out, and Harry's not dressed for the weather but he signals his stop.

Once he's in the rain, pelting sheets of liquid hit him. Wind blows him around. He kind of really likes being battered about. At least it makes him feel alive. He catches up the figure.

"Hey Cho," a smile graces his lips.

The figure whips around, anorexic Cho looks back at him.

Cho's eyes are sunken in and quite bloodshot. She smells of stale beer and bars. Her cheekbones stick out more than usual and her mouth is wide and gaunt. None the less Cho is still pretty.

It's interesting, what time can do to people.

_**them**_

Harry takes her home. She's drunk, but not totally out of it. She knows it's Harry, she knows it's the boy she once hated so long ago. She knows that she's the girl that was second best to Ginny.

But she's done with that.

To be fair, the Chosen One doesn't look quite like himself either. He's shaking, wet hair sticking to his forehead. His own weight has diminished, but not quite as prominent as hers.

They lose themselves to each other. Soft kisses become hard kisses. Cho is crying. Harry is ignoring her tears. They both want something to let them know they are alive and this is it. Their shirts come off and so does the remaining articles. Hazy lidded eyes close as their bodies meet for the first time. But it is like they have known each other forever.

They've known each other's pain.

_I'm alive_, thinks Cho.

_I'm living and everyone else is dead and dying_, thinks Harry.

It's beautiful, how two can come apart to be one.


End file.
